Betrayed
by Deana
Summary: Legolas suddenly falls ill, and the obvious cause is poison. Who has done this, and what toxin was used? Questions need fast answers before the poison kills him...
1. A Sick Elf?

**Betrayed  
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, or any other LOTR character.**

**Hey everyone! Here's chapter 1 of my much-awaited story, lol! Enjoy! ;)**

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A cry of pain suddenly filled the room, and Aragorn dropped the herbs that he was holding and rushed over to the bed.

Legolas was the unfortunate person who lay on it, curled into a ball, arms wrapped around his stomach. His eyes were squeezed shut and sweat dripped from his brow. His skin was very pale and his breath came in fast gasps.

Aragorn reached out to soothe his friend, using a wet cloth to wipe away the sweat, gently pushing damp hair from the elf's face.

Legolas showed no acknowledgement of his friend's presence, too locked-up in his current agony.

Aragorn quickly rushed back to the table of herbs, desperately sorting through them and mixing a few together. He put them in a pot of water and placed it over the fire, before rushing back to his friend and sitting on the bed, placing a calming hand on the Prince's chest while rubbing his back with the other. "Slow your breathing, Legolas," he said.

The elf was unable to comply. His body shook and tears threatened to fall from his eyes at the intense pain that gripped his midsection and abdomen. He could feel his friend's comforting hands and tried to open his eyes, but the action proved as impossible as slowing his frantic breathing.

Aragorn rushed back to the fire and took the pot, pouring the contents into a cup and adding more water to cool it. Taking it back to the bed, he sat beside his friend and tried to sit him up, but the elf wouldn't let himself be uncurled. "Legolas," he said, urgently. "You must drink this! Please, my friend…"

An elf unused to sickness, Legolas had never experienced such horrible stomach pain before, and was having a very hard time coping. It required every ounce of willpower that he owned to allow Aragorn to sit him up, and the instinct to curl up again was so great that even while sitting, he remained hunched over.

Aragorn slowly fed his friend the herb-laden tea, praying that it would ease the elf's pain and fight whatever toxin had invaded his body. He wanted so badly to give Legolas a sleeping herb, to spare him such pain, but he couldn't do that until he knew what it was that the elf had ingested…and _how_ he'd ingested it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day had begun innocently enough; Legolas had come to Gondor from Ithilien a few days prior, to spend some time with his friend while Arwen was away visiting her brothers in Rivendell. The elf had helped the king go over some trade agreements and patrol reports. Everything was going very well in the human city—until now.

Aragorn began to notice something amiss with his friend as they walked through the gardens. Legolas was walking delicately, as if there was pain within his body. When he looked at his friend to ask what was wrong, he was shocked to see a sheen of sweat on the elf's face, which looked paler than usual. "Legolas!" he exclaimed. "What is wrong?"

Legolas blinked and shook his head. "I do not know," he said, sounding confused. "For some reason…I do not feel well."

A statement like that coming from Legolas, of all people, was extremely significant.

Aragorn grabbed his friend's arms and looked at him. "Have you some wound that I do not know about?"

"No," said the elf, shaking his head again. He gave a shaky sigh; his posture slumped as he wrapped an arm around his midsection. "Aragorn…" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I…I need to sit down…"

If someone had told the King that Gondor was under attack, he would not have been more scared than he was right now. _Elves do not get ill! _he thought.

Wordlessly, he quickly pulled Legolas towards a nearby bench and sat him down, where the elf gave a soft groan and hunched over his stomach.

"What did you eat today?" Aragorn asked, sitting beside his friend and holding onto him tightly.

"Nothing that I…never ate…before," Legolas answered, his breath coming faster. He suddenly closed his eyes and hunched over further.

"Are you about to be ill?" Aragorn asked, nervously.

Legolas shook his head, eyes still closed. "No…it is not like that. It is simply…_pain_." He gasped, letting his head hang.

"Can you walk?" Aragorn asked, alarmed at how fast his friend was deteriorating.

To his shock, Legolas shook his head.

His heart hammering with fear, Aragorn quickly stood and slid one arm around Legolas' back and the other under the elf's knees, lifting him from the bench and hurrying back into the palace. He passed many guards on the way, alarming them all who thought that the Prince of Mirkwood had been attacked. Despite their questions, Aragorn didn't answer them as he ran to the palace's House of Healing.

When he burst into one of the rooms, the healers that were inside were quite startled by the situation and tried to help, but Aragorn ordered them all out, telling them not to disturb him unless he called for them. None of the human healers knew anything about elvish healing, and the last thing that Legolas needed was for them to get in Aragorn's way.

The human gently laid his friend on the bed and rushed for the herb supply, quickly finding the ones that he wanted and making his friend some healing tea. After getting Legolas to drink it, he laid the elf back down, where Legolas curled up on his side like a sad elfling.

Less than a minute later, the door suddenly opened as someone came into the room. Aragorn turned; ready to tell the person to leave, until he saw that it was Faramir.

"What has happened!" the Steward exclaimed, rushing towards the bed.

"We know not," said Aragorn, still rubbing Legolas' back as they awaited whatever effects the tea would have. "He appears to have been poisoned!"

Faramir's eyebrows rose with shock, as he walked forward and knelt beside the bed, trying to see the elf's face. He had become good friends with Legolas as they'd worked together to restore and populate Ithilien, and it hurt to see him suffering so. "Was it a deliberate attack?" he asked.

"I do not yet know," Aragorn said. "I need to consult my books before I can guess as to what substance has caused this."

Legolas suddenly gave a whimper, curling in on himself even more, if possible.

"Will you stay with him while I retrieve some books?" Aragorn asked.

"Of course," Faramir answered.

Aragorn lowered his face to his suffering friend's ear. "I will be gone for only a few minutes, my friend, Faramir will stay with you."

Legolas gave no reply, his only movement being the shaking of his thin body.

Aragorn stood and Faramir took his seat on the bed, laying his hands on the elf to let him know that he was there.

"If anything happens, call for me," Aragorn told him. "I'll just be down the hall."

Faramir nodded and the King left, his running footsteps echoing through the corridor.

"Legolas?" Faramir said, leaning down to see the elf's face. "Legolas? Can you speak?"

The elf said nothing, but he licked his lips as if he was trying.

At sight of the sweat rolling down the elf's pale face, Faramir grabbed a wet cloth that he saw on the nightstand and wiped it across Legolas' forehead and cheeks, pushing his golden hair off his shoulder so that it wouldn't stick to his skin. He ran his eyes over his friend, seeing if there was any way to make him more comfortable. "Let me remove your belt," he said, squeezing his hands under the elf's arms where they were wrapped around his stomach.

Legolas wouldn't loosen his hold, breathing heavily through his pain.

"Legolas," Faramir said, loudly. "Move your arms, I am trying to help you!"

The human's voice finally got through, and Legolas slowly unwrapped himself.

Faramir gently undid the elf's belt and laid it on the nightstand, before unclasping Legolas' tunic and pulling his arm out of the sleeve. "You need to lie flat for a minute," he said.

Legolas made no protest, so Faramir gently rolled him onto his back and pulled the tunic out from under him, pulling his other arm out of the sleeve and tossing the tunic to the end of the bed.

The strength seemed to have drained out of Legolas, who lay there motionless, still breathing heavily but a little more calmly, it seemed.

Faramir again wiped the elf's face, leaving the cloth on the Prince's heated forehead. He removed the elf's shoes and laid the tunic on a chair before going back to sit on the bed. To his surprise, he saw Legolas' eyes open, blinking dazedly.

"F-Faramir?" he whispered.

The human nodded; glad to see that his friend seemed to be doing better. "How did this happen to you?" he asked.

Legolas closed his eyes, a wince marring his fair features. Instead of speaking, he shook his head in answer.

Faramir placed a hand on the elf's arm, in comfort, as the sound of running footsteps met their ears.

The door opened and Aragorn burst through, his arms full of books. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of Legolas flat on his back rather than curled on his side, and he rushed to the bed, dropping a book along the way. "Is he unconscious?" he asked, fearfully.

The Steward shook his head. "I believe that his pain has lessened."

Aragorn smiled slightly at the news. "Legolas? Is that so, my friend?"

The elf half-opened his eyes. Pain could still be seen in them. "Aye," he whispered. "Some."

Aragorn patted his arm, so glad that the tea had helped. "I need to know exactly how you feel," he said. "So that I can learn exactly which toxin has done this. Show me exactly where the pain is."

Legolas, obviously weak, dragged his hands up and placed one below his ribcage and the other under his navel.

"This entire area?" Aragorn asked, laying his hands over his friend's.

Legolas nodded.

Gently, Aragorn pressed on Legolas' stomach and abdomen. Unexpectedly—to Faramir, anyway—the elf's whole body jerked at the touch and he closed his eyes tightly with another gasp.

Aragorn removed his hands, giving his friend a sympathetic look. "Forgive me, Legolas."

Legolas gave no reply; eyes clenched tight, his breathing labored.

Aragorn gathered the books again and crossed to a table, laying them down and picking up a quill and a piece of parchment. He wrote down the location of his friend's pain, realizing that it showed that the toxin caused symptoms _after_ digestion. That explained why there was no vomiting, and meant that the elf had likely eaten it at breakfast. "What are the other symptoms?"

"Sweating," Faramir answered for the elf. He'd retrieved a bowl of water and was gently wiping Legolas' face again. "He is fevered, and seems very weak." He patted the elf's arm, feeling the limb quivering under his hand. "He either shakes, or shivers; I am not sure which."

Aragorn wrote it all down, including the elf's extreme paleness. "Legolas?" he said.

He got no answer.

"Legolas?" said Faramir, nervously. He tapped the elf's cheek gently, but he didn't respond.

Aragorn rushed over from the table and Faramir stood from the bed, letting the King sit down and take the elf's arms. "Legolas?" he called again, checking his pulse.

The elf made no reply, consciousness having fled his pain-filled body.

Aragorn was alarmed at the weakness of the beat beneath his fingers, and he looked at Faramir, both humans sharing a frightened look.

TBC


	2. Clues

Word quickly spread about the Mirkwood Prince's condition, and the command went out that anyone who knew any information was to immediately report it to the King.

Meanwhile, Legolas remained unconscious.

Aragorn was urgently going through his books, searching for information on toxins that caused Legolas' symptoms. There was more than one, but there were other possible symptoms also that Legolas didn't have—yet. Or perhaps he did; for all Aragorn knew, there could be other things ailing the elf that he didn't know about thanks to Legolas' unconsciousness.

Faramir took it upon himself to head an investigation. He asked gardeners which toxic plants grew in Gondor, and he spoke to the kitchen staff. The cooks were bewildered, and gave Faramir a list of foods that had been served at breakfast that morning and at dinner the night before.

Walking into Legolas' room, he found Aragorn sitting at the elf's bedside, wiping their friend's forehead and face. Books lay on the King's lap, the nightstand, and the bed, while discarded ones lay on the floor. "How is he?"

"Bad," Aragorn answered, anxiety lacing his voice. "His fever is high and his pulse is very weak. If only he would wake, so that I might learn if there are any new symptoms!"

Faramir sighed and handed him some parchment. "Here are lists of local poisonous plants, and all food that was served last night and this morning. The luncheon list is there also, though I know you said he could not have acquired the poison then."

Aragorn nodded. "His pain struck two hours after the mid-day meal. Ordinarily, that would sound as if he consumed it then, but only if the pain was in his stomach, here," he said, pointing to the appropriate place on the elf. "But Legolas said that the pain is down here." Aragorn pointed to beneath the elf's navel. "Which shows that most of the poison had digested and moved to his bowels. When I touched his abdomen, I felt some swelling within. If he'd consumed the poison at lunch, it would not have been digested yet at the time that he fell ill."

Faramir nodded, understanding. "He said that the pain is in his stomach also, though, when he showed us the location."

Aragorn nodded. "But he didn't tell us if there was a difference in intensity. It is possible that some of the poison had not yet left his stomach at the time."

Faramir nodded again, as Aragorn read the list of food.

"Eggs, ham, porridge, bread and honey, fruits, and cheeses. What did _I_ eat?" the King wondered aloud. "Eggs and ham with the honey-bread."

"I had exactly the same," said Faramir.

"What did Legolas eat," Aragorn said, thinking. "He had some apple slices with cheese. He did not eat much—why? Had he already eaten something else? Had he already been feeling ill?"

Faramir sighed, watching Legolas as the unconscious elf breathed softly.

Aragorn echoed it, but his was louder and almost shaky as he reached a hand to feel the elf's pulse. "We need to find out what is causing this—I do not know what damage is being wrought inside his body!" He again felt Legolas' abdomen, frowning.

Unexpectedly, Legolas' body spasmed at the touch, and he gave a cry of pain.

"Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed, reaching over to put a hand on the side of his face. "Can you hear me, my friend?"

Legolas' eyes were closed tightly and his hands balled into fists. His breath came faster, turning into gasps.

"Please, Legolas, look at me!" Aragorn pleaded.

The elf tried to open his eyes, succeeding it getting them open halfway. He blinked a few times and Faramir handed the King the wet cloth, which Aragorn wiped along the elf's fevered face.

"What did you eat this morning?" he asked. "I saw what you had for breakfast. Did you eat anything else before that, or before lunch? Did you eat anything after dinner last night?"

Legolas blinked again, having a hard time following Aragorn's words. He tried to remember what he'd eaten and started to shake his head, but suddenly stopped.

"What, Legolas?" Aragorn asked.

The elf tried to talk, but his entire body was shaking from pain.

"Water," Aragorn said to Faramir, who grabbed the pitcher that sat on the nightstand and poured some into a cup, handing it to the King. Faramir lifted Legolas up and Aragorn held the cup to his lips.

Legolas drank some of it, but because his breathing was gaspy, he choked.

Aragorn pulled the cup away, frowning when the elf gave another pained cry after coughing. The motion had obviously hurt; Legolas placed a hand on his abdomen and turned his head, scrunching his shoulders as if he wanted to curl up again, but he lacked the strength.

"Try to find out if he ate anything else," Aragorn told Faramir, as he ran over to the table and mixed some more painkilling herbs.

Faramir obeyed, repeating the question to the elf.

Legolas nodded in answer.

"He did, Aragorn!" Faramir called.

Aragorn came back, holding a cup. They helped the elf drink it, and then assisted him in rolling over, where Legolas wrapped his arms around himself again.

"P…p…" Legolas said, in between gasps. "Pastry."

"Pastry?" Aragorn echoed. "Where did you get it?"

"Room," Legolas said, not opening his eyes.

"It was in your room?" Aragorn said, a chill going down his spine.

Legolas nodded, as sweat rolled down his face.

Faramir wiped the cloth over the elf's skin, before holding it against his forehead.

"T-thought…you…" said Legolas, stopping and licking his lips.

"You thought I had it brought to you?" Aragorn said.

The elf nodded, eyes still closed. "S-strawberry."

Legolas' favorite.

Aragorn sighed. "Faramir, go to his room and see if you can find anything left by the person who did this. If there is a plate, please bring it to me."

Faramir nodded and handed the cloth to the King before leaving.

Legolas suddenly groaned.

Aragorn rewet the cloth and held it to Legolas' forehead again. "Forgive me, my friend, I cannot give you anything stronger for the pain until I know what poison it is that you suffer from."

Legolas nodded, understanding.

"Are there any new symptoms?" Aragorn asked, sympathetically.

"Cold," Legolas whispered, eyes still closed.

Aragorn sighed. "That is likely caused by your fever. I cannot cover you, or it would raise your temperature." He paused, sadly watching his friend suffer. "Do you have any idea who would do this to you?"

Despite his pain, Legolas smiled slightly at the question.

"Anyone _recent_, here in Gondor," Aragorn clarified.

Legolas shook his head. His shivering increased and he gave a shaky sigh.

Standing, Aragorn crossed to the closet and took out a sheet, draping it over the elf in compassion. Since it was thin, he doubted that it would cause an increase in his temperature. He would simply remove it when Legolas slept.

Legolas grabbed it with one hand and tucked it under his chin, curling up even more.

Aragorn sat beside him again, holding the cloth to Legolas' forehead with one hand and gently rubbing his back with the other, desperate to comfort his friend.

The herbs decreased Legolas' pain a little, and his breathing calmed slightly.

A minute later, the door opened silently as Faramir returned. In his hands was a small silver plate.

Aragorn took it and motioned for Faramir to take over his position, handing him the cloth. He took the plate over to the table and looked it over, smelling it to see if any trace of the poison remained. He smelled nothing though, and the plate wasn't dirty at all. "Legolas," he called, suddenly realizing something. "How many pastries were there?"

"One," the elf answered, his voice tight with pain.

_Smart man,_ Aragorn thought. _Not risking leaving anything behind._ "How did it taste?" he asked, walking back to the bed. "Was there anything odd about it?"

Legolas shook his head.

"Did it taste exactly how the palace cooks usually make them?"

Legolas thought for a minute before shaking his head. "More strawberry," he said. He finally opened his eyes, and smiled slightly. "Better."

Aragorn returned the smile. "I won't tell the cooks that you said that."

Legolas' smile widened, but was quickly replaced with a wince and he closed his eyes once more.

Aragorn went back to his books, looking now for a poison that was tasteless.

Not long after, Legolas lost consciousness again, perhaps giving it up willingly to escape the horrible pain.

"Are there any poisons that you think could be the one responsible?" Faramir asked.

"There are a few," Aragorn answered.

"Can you not give him the antidotes to each?" said the Steward. "Or will the herbs react with each other?"

Aragorn nodded. "Exactly. For instance, Purple Weed grows in the woods and has a deep purple pattern on its leaves—"

Faramir nodded. "I know the plant."

"It causes symptoms like Legolas'," Aragorn told him. "But the cure involves a certain flower that combined with a different poison could kill him."

Faramir sighed, shaking his head. "How will we ever learn which poison it was?"

Aragorn sighed, not answering. He put down a book and rubbed his face. "Could you go down to the kitchens to see if there are anymore of those pastries, and ask who made them?"

Faramir nodded and took the plate. "I will also see if this belongs to the palace."

Aragorn returned the nod, and Faramir left again. He reached to check his friend's pulse and found that it had slowed. A stab of fear shot through him. "Do not leave me, mellon-nin!" he whispered. "Please!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Faramir entered the kitchens, to find four women bustling about.

"Oh, Lord Faramir!" said the one who'd given him the food-list earlier. "How is Prince Legolas?"

"Not doing well," Faramir told her. He noticed the panicked looks that each girl wore, and he stored it in his mind as information to tease the elf with if—_when_—he recovered. "Are there anymore of your strawberry pastries?"

The head-cook blinked. "We haven't made any in the past week. We'd actually planned to make some today."

Faramir frowned. "Someone left one in Prince Legolas' room this morning," he said.

The girls all looked at each other, surprised.

"Is that how he got poisoned?" one of them asked.

"It seems that way," said Faramir. "But please, do not mention that to anyone, not even your families. We do not wish the person responsible to find out that we know this."

The girls nodded, and Faramir held out the plate. "Was this missing, by any chance?"

The head cook took it and walked to one of the cupboards. She opened it and counted the stack of identical plates. "Indeed it was," she said. "And so is another."

"There is _another_ missing?" Faramir asked, surprised.

The cook nodded and looked at the younger girls. "Did any of you damage one and dispose of it?"

They all shook their heads.

Faramir thought for a minute, before asking, "Was there anything to suggest that anyone had been in this kitchen overnight?"

The cooks all thought for a minute, before one of them said, "Yes! I found the jar of strawberry paste on the counter instead of the shelf."

Faramir's eyebrows shot up. "Do not use it, the poison might be in it."

The girl suddenly went pale, reaching out to grab the table. "I _ate_ it!"

"You what!" cried the head cook, as the other girls gasped.

"When?" asked Faramir.

"T-this morning," the girl stuttered. "I was here at dawn. When I found it on the counter, I put some on bread and ate it before putting it where it belonged!"

Faramir was relieved. "Then you are likely fine. You ate it even earlier than Legolas did, and he fell ill hours ago. Do you feel well?"

The girl smiled slightly. "I did until a moment ago."

Faramir smiled back. "Please remember what I said; do not tell anyone what I have told you. If you discover anything more that can help us learn who has done this, please let me know immediately."

The women nodded, and Faramir left. As he walked down the hall, he thought about the still-missing plate. _Suppose this man was trying to poison two people, of which Legolas is only one. Who could be the other?_

With a gasp of shock, Faramir started running down the halls, making his way to a particular room. Reaching the door, he threw it open to find exactly what he feared—

—A plate containing a lone pastry sat on the nightstand of the King's chamber.

TBC


	3. The Cure!

Aragorn was surprised to suddenly hear running footsteps, and he looked up as Faramir shot through the door. When he saw what the Steward held, he stood.

"This was in _your_ chamber!" Faramir exclaimed.

That was something that the King did not expect to hear.

Faramir told him what he'd learned from the kitchen staff, as Aragorn inspected the pastry.

Smelling it, the King detected no odd scent, and as he was about to break it apart, they heard a sound come from the bed.

"Legolas?" said Aragorn, rushing to his friend.

The elf groaned loudly, looking paler than seemed possible, with a bright red spot on both cheeks.

Aragorn felt his forehead, finding that his fever had spiked. Legolas' eyes were closed tightly and he was muttering too softly for the words to be understood. His pulse was beating so weakly that the human could barely feel it. "No, Legolas!" he exclaimed, tears filling his eyes. "You cannot leave me; I will not let you go!"

Faramir watched, stricken, his chest tight with fear for their friend.

"We need more cold water and towels," the King told him.

Faramir rushed to retrieve them and Aragorn rolled the elf onto his back, gently pulling the shirt over his head, leaving him clad only in his leggings.

Faramir returned, and they laid the wet towels on Legolas' chest, under his neck, and on his stomach and arms.

Legolas lay completely limp, his body giving an occasional shudder. It was obvious that the elf was dying.

Aragorn couldn't prevent the tears that slipped down his cheeks, and he didn't try. He ran back to the pastry that sat on the table, and when he broke it apart he was shocked to see purple streaks inside; the poison that Legolas had ingested was the very one that he had mentioned to Faramir.

"It _was_ the Purple Weed!" he exclaimed.

Faramir looked up from where he sat rewetting the cloths on Legolas' body.

Aragorn grabbed the books that lay open in a pile, trying to find the one that spoke of the Purple Weed plant. He found it and read the cure's ingredients before rushing to the door with the book. He suddenly stopped, though, looking at Faramir.

"What is it?" the Steward asked.

"How can I ask anyone to retrieve these ingredients for me when I know not who poisoned him! We cannot trust anyone!"

Faramir stood. "Let me," he said, taking the book. "I will enlist the help of my old nursemaid. She will know the herbs well, and I can state with certainty that she was not the person who tried to kill him."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Thank you…I think I need not express how quickly I need these ingredients?"

Faramir shook his head. "I will return immediately," he said, again rushing from the room.

Aragorn sighed as he sat on the bed beside the elf. He was so relieved to have discovered the poison responsible, but as he watched his dying friend, he wondered if it was already too late to save him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was almost an hour before Faramir came back.

The flower that Aragorn had earlier mentioned to the Steward had been very hard to find, for autumn was descending on Gondor, and he literally had to raid resident's gardens until he found it.

Faramir ran down the hall for the third time that day, bursting through the door and nearly throwing the book and bag of herbs at Aragorn.

The King took them and ran to the table, separating the herbs and following the book's directions.

"Forgive me," said Faramir, catching his breath. "I could not quickly find the flower."

Aragorn waved away his apology, knowing that the Steward had gone as fast as he could.

Without needing to be told, Faramir sat on the bed and rewet the towels on Legolas' body, who lay as still as death. He felt his friend's pulse and found it not only weak, but irregular. He looked at Aragorn, wondering if the King knew. "His heart…"

"I know," said Aragorn, grabbing the pot of water that he'd already sat on the fire. He was trying to hurry so fast that he spilled some, exclaiming something in elvish that Faramir didn't understand.

It took a few minutes more before the antidote was ready, and Aragorn brought it to the bed, slowly feeding it to the elf as Faramir held him up.

"How long does it take to work?" he asked.

"It depends on the length of time between ingesting the poison and receiving the cure," Aragorn told him, not voicing the fact that it might already be too late.

Faramir sighed, gently laying Legolas down again. For a minute, both men simply stared at their friend, both of them earnestly praying that Legolas would recover.

It was hours before they knew if he would.

The elf's fever raged on until the middle of the night before it began to fall. After that, Legolas' heartbeat lost most of its irregularity, though it remained weak.

By mid-morning, Legolas was still unconscious and still had a fever, but the fact that it had lowered was encouraging.

"According to this book," said Aragorn. "Recovery is not swift from this particular poison, especially with how long it was before Legolas received the antidote."

Faramir nodded, as he rewet the cloths on their friend's body. "We still do not know who has done this; they also tried to kill _you_! You _both_ remain in great danger."

Aragorn nodded, saying nothing.

"We know that it is someone who has access to the palace," said Faramir.

Aragorn shook his head. "I cannot fathom who it could be." He looked down at the book again, lifting his arm from it. He made a sound of dismay to see that strawberry paste had gotten on his sleeve and soiled one of the pages. A thought suddenly struck him, and he looked at Faramir to see that he was thinking the same thing.

Wordlessly, the Steward jumped to his feet and left the room, again running down the hall. He went down to the palace's lowest level and opened the door, having to step back when he nearly got slapped in the face by flying garments.

"Forgive me, my lord!" a woman exclaimed.

Faramir looked around the palace laundry room, at the piles of clothes that lay about. "Stop!" he yelled. "Do not wash anything else! I require everyone's assistance on an urgent matter!"

TBC

Faramir should've been a detective, LOL!


	4. Killer Revealed

Merry Christmas, everyone! ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Legolas," Aragorn said, gently wiping the elf's hot forehead. "Please wake, my friend, you have slept long enough."

The elf gave no reply, lying motionless and pale.

Aragorn sighed, reaching over to feel Legolas' abdomen again. Some of the swelling had gone down, to his immense relief. He fervently prayed that his friend would no longer feel such horrible pain when he finally woke.

A few hours later, the elf's fever finally broke.

Tears of joy filled Aragorn's eyes and he lifted his friend from the bed, carefully sitting him in a chair as he changed the sweat-drenched sheets. After that, he brought Legolas into the adjoining room and quickly bathed him and dressed him in clean nightclothes before again laying him on the bed.

Legolas looked better, not as deathly pale.

Aragorn pulled the elf's wet hair out from under his head and laid it above him on the pillow to dry. He then placed a wet cloth on his friend's forehead, in hope of abating the light fever that still remained.

The door suddenly opened as Faramir came back. Aragorn looked at him, frowning at the Steward's expression.

In Faramir's arms lay a blue robe. Red stains could be seen on it, and Aragorn stood. "Whose is it?" he asked.

Faramir looked shocked. He hesitated, seeming unable to speak. "It belongs to Marzek," he finally said.

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up. Marzek was one of his advisors; he'd been Denethor's before Aragorn and was like an uncle to Faramir.

Saying nothing, Faramir took the robe and held it up. Strawberry paste covered many areas of it, as if the man had accidentally spilled it on himself.

Aragorn had _hoped_ to find clothes stained with the fruit, but he didn't expect to actually find anything.

"Before you ask," said Faramir. "He does not like strawberry. He would not have gone to the kitchens to eat some."

Aragorn stood and approached the Steward, taking the sleeve and sniffing the red stain. It was definitely the strawberry paste.

"I cannot believe that he has done this!" Faramir exclaimed, anger replacing some of his shock. "Why would he try to kill you and Legolas?"

Aragorn shook his head, puzzled himself. "I know not."

Faramir sighed, sitting in the chair beside the bed and looking at the elf. "He looks better!"

Aragorn nodded. "His fever is nearly gone."

Faramir smiled, but it was replaced with a frown as he thought back to Marzek. He stood with a sigh, walking to the table and taking the bag that the herbs had been in. He stuffed the robe inside and headed for the door. "I shall arrest Marzek, and take him to prison."

Aragorn watched him go; opening his mouth to speak, but he could find no words.

Faramir walked down the hall towards Marzek's chamber, still unable to believe that he had done such a thing. He came to the door and was about to knock, but it opened before he had a chance.

"Faramir!" said Marzek. "How are you today, my boy?"

"Fine," he replied.

Marzek blinked. "Is something wrong? I have not seen the King all day; he has not taken ill, has he?"

Faramir shook his head; all hope that this was a dreadful mistake dashed by such an obvious question. "He is fine, I was just with him."

Marzek appeared puzzled for an instant, but quickly covered it. "That is good. Have you learned yet what has befallen the elf?"

The way he said 'the elf' instead of Legolas' name sent warning bells through Faramir's mind. He'd never heard Marzek speak of elves…had he some dislike for them? "Legolas is not doing well," he lied.

Marzek nodded, not looking concerned in the least. "Pity."

Faramir sighed; reaching his hands into the bag that was slung around his shoulder. "Have you supped yet?" he asked. "The King gave me a pastry earlier, but I find that I am still hungry."

Marzek stopped dead. "A pastry!"

Faramir nodded. "Someone brought it in his room, but he did not want it."

Marzek looked at him, before facing forwards again, looking dazed. His breathing-rate had increased, and he swallowed convulsively.

Faramir needed no more proof. "Why did you do it?"

Marzek looked at him again. "Do what?"

In answer, Faramir took the dirty robe out of the bag.

Marzek stared at it.

"Legolas recovers," said Faramir. "After we determined that the pastry he ate had contained poison, I found one in the King's chamber. He was able to detect the Purple Weed, and gave Legolas the antidote." He paused, watching the older man. "Why did you do it?" he asked again. "How could you _do_ such a thing?"

"I did it for _you_!" Marzek exclaimed. "After your father and brother died, the throne should have been yours! It was stolen out from under you! With the King's death, it would fall to _you_!"

Faramir shook his head, bewildered. "It would fall to the Queen."

"Not if she hadn't gone on her trip," said Marzek, bitterly.

Faramir gaped, in utter shock. "You would murder a woman!"

"An elf," said Marzek. "Yes! To give you what is yours!"

Faramir shook his head, words escaping him. "But Legolas…why did you poison Legolas? Have you any idea how terribly he has suffered from your poison!"

"Of course I do," Marzek said, coldly. "As for why…he controls Ithilien, does he not?" said Marzek. "With the death of the King and Queen, he might simply extend his rule and take the throne of Gondor for himself."

Faramir had heard enough. Drawing his sword, he pointed it at Marzek's throat. "You are under arrest!" he said. "For the attempted murder of the Prince of Mirkwood, and for conspiracy to murder the King and Queen of Gondor!"

"You would arrest _me_?" Marzek said, surprised at the concept. "The man who treated you as a son for so many years? Denethor was not a father to you; I decided had compassion on the lonely son of the Steward and treated you as my own!"

Faramir sighed. "I no longer count you as family," he said, sadly. "You tried to kill my friends, to give me a throne that I have no desire to sit upon!"

Marzek was silent for a minute. "And so, I perish," he finally said, looking at the floor. "Execution is now my price for trying to help you get what you deserve."

Faramir's sword wavered, and he couldn't help but feel pity for the old, deluded man.

Marzek suddenly took a step, to flee, but Faramir's sword came up again, stopping him.

"Walk," said Faramir, angrily.

Sighing, Marzek had no choice but to head towards the prison.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aragorn looked up from Legolas' bedside as Faramir re-entered the room. "Was it truly Marzek?" he asked. "There was no mistake?"

The expression on Faramir's face was proof enough. "It was. He admitted it."

Aragorn blinked. "How did you manage that?"

Faramir smiled slightly. "I told him that you had given me a strawberry pastry."

Aragorn shared the smile, amazed at the Steward's quick mind.

"He is in prison," Faramir said, with a sigh. "Awaiting your judgment."

"Did he tell you why he did it?"

Faramir nodded, hesitating a moment before telling him.

Aragorn was shocked at what he heard, and grew enraged that not only was Legolas needlessly targeted, but also his wife.

"Forgive me," Faramir said, hanging his head. "This would not have happened if not for I."

Aragorn frowned. "This is no fault of yours! Rather, you should be commended for your quick work during this investigation. You discovered the second pastry, you found the man responsible, and Legolas lives."

"Do I?" they heard.

Aragorn and Faramir were both startled at the sudden voice.

"Legolas!" Aragorn happily exclaimed, grabbing his friend's arm. "How do you feel?"

Legolas looked at them through half-opened eyes. He blinked a few times before answering. "As if…an oliphaunt…fell on me." His voice was slow and weak-sounding.

Aragorn winced. For once, Legolas had not lied and said that he was 'fine'. "Do you still have pain?"

Legolas nodded slightly. "Aye, but not…nearly as bad…as earlier."

Aragorn was relieved at the elf's words.

"Earlier? You mean yesterday," said Faramir.

"Ah," said Legolas, showing no outward reaction to the Steward's words. "Yesterday, then." His eyes closed wearily.

"Rest," said Aragorn, patting his arm. "I will get you some painkilling herbs, and then you can sleep."

Legolas gave no reply, and Aragorn moved to the table.

"We found the man responsible for this, Legolas," said Faramir. "You no longer need to fear for your life."

"Good," Legolas whispered. He asked for no details, showing the humans how disoriented the poor elf still was.

Aragorn returned with the herbs and helped Legolas drink them, after which the elf quickly fell back to sleep.

TBC


	5. Expect the Unexpected

Hey everyone! MERRY CHRISTMAS! ;) Have you heard that old kid's Christmas song, 'Dominic the Donkey'? It's been rolling around and around in my head lately, so I decided to make a Legolas song out of it, ROTFL! Here goes:

Legolas the Wood Elf  
(to the tune of 'Dominic the Donkey')

La da da da,  
(bowstring) _twang!  
_It's Legolas the wood elf!  
La da da da!  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf.  
La la la, la la la la la la la,  
La la la, la la la la la la la!  
Legolas, he is a Prince, son of the elven King,  
A handsome one, he's lots of fun, and really loves to sing,  
He's great at riding horses and he's great at fighting orcs,  
He's really cool, he is no fool, and never is a dork.  
Oh! La da da da,  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf!  
La da da da,  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf.  
La la la, la la la la la la la,  
La la la, la la la la la la la!  
Legolas looks really young but actually is 'old',  
The lucky elf is never sick and hardly feels the cold,  
His age is near three thousand and his hair is really blond,  
And of strawberry pastries he especially is fond.  
Oh! La da da da,  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf!  
La da da da,  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf.  
La la la, la la la la la la la,  
La la la, la la la la la la la!  
Legolas is really swift and loves to shoot his bow,  
He's graceful and sure-footed, would never stub his toe,  
And if you are his friend, quite well-treated you would be,  
Because he is so nice, even so to all the trees.  
La da da da,  
(_twang!)  
_It's Legolas the wood elf!  
La da da da,_  
_It's Legolas the wood elf.  
La la la, la la la la la la la,  
La la la, la la la la la la la!

Allllllllrighty then, ROTFL! Here's your new chapter! ;)

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When Legolas woke the next day, his mind was clear. It took him a minute to remember what had happened, but when he did, his eyes snapped open.

Aragorn, sitting beside the bed, was startled at the elf's abrupt waking. "Good morning, Legolas!" he said. "How do you feel?"

Legolas shifted his position and gave a wince. "Sore. Did I hear Faramir say that you know who did this?"

Aragorn nodded. "It was Marzek."

Legolas frowned. "Marzek? Your advisor?"

Aragorn nodded again, and told Legolas the story.

The elf was shocked, to say the least. He lay speechless, his pale face turning even whiter, especially when he learned that he was not the only target.

Aragorn watched his friend, as tiredness began to bleed into the elf's shocked and angry expression.

Legolas' eyes suddenly closed, but he opened them again, trying to fight sleep. He tried to sit up, but gasped, wincing.

Aragorn put a hand on his friend's chest, to stop him. "You should not move," he said. "Is the pain serious?"

Legolas gave a half-grin. "Only when I move."

Aragorn returned the smile, before it melted from his face. "The poison undoubtedly caused internal damage, but because you are an elf, it should heal without much difficulty."

Legolas nodded, his eyes closing tiredly again.

"Sleep," Aragorn said, patting his arm. "You will feel better when next you wake."

Legolas nodded, obeying without protest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What seemed seconds later—but was really several hours—Legolas woke again hearing whispered voices.

"I am truly sorry, Faramir."

"Do not be," the Steward replied, though his sad tone contradicted his words. "It is no fault of yours; you could not have anticipated this, just as I did not."

"You have my sympathy, all the same," whispered Aragorn.

"Thank you," Faramir replied, before sighing. "It matters not, though, for his crime was guilty of death."

Legolas tried to understand what he was hearing, but wakefulness came slowly to his weakened body.

Faramir saw the elf open his eyes, and smiled. "Legolas! It is so good to see you awake, my friend."

Legolas smiled back. "I have you to thank for _being_ awake, Faramir."

Faramir's smile turned bashful, but he couldn't deny the truth.

"What has happened?" Legolas asked. "I heard you talking…"

Faramir's smile faded. "Marzek…killed himself in his cell," he said, painfully.

Legolas' eyebrows rose. "How?"

"Apparently, there was a coil of rope nearby that he was able to reach," Aragorn answered.

"Do not be sorry," Faramir said, before the elf had a chance to say anything more. "Execution would have been the punishment for his actions. We could not let a man live who is a danger to the monarchy."

Legolas nodded. He would likewise never free a criminal that tried to kill his father, the King of Mirkwood.

"How do you feel?" Faramir asked him.

"Better," Legolas said, relieved. "The pain is not bad."

"When you remain _still_," said Aragorn, with a stern look.

Legolas sighed. "I can see that it would be a waste of breath to ask my next question."

"Indeed, if it involves getting out of bed," said Aragorn.

Faramir chuckled at the annoyed look that Legolas shot the King. "Enjoy the rest, Legolas," he said.

Legolas sighed again, pulling his arms out from under the covers. "I hate being confined to bed."

"You would not hate it if you were human," said Faramir.

"Aragorn always hated it," said Legolas.

"Aye," said the King. "Aragorn hated it, but not King Elessar."

Faramir and Legolas smiled at the admittance.

"Now you understand why I sometimes hated the difficult life of a Prince," said Legolas.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Faramir opened it to find the head cook standing there with a tray. She walked right in and up to the bed.

Aragorn took the tray before the woman had any thoughts of placing it on Legolas' lap and accidentally hurting his still-tender abdomen.

"My girls and I cooked all day when we heard that you were recovering!" she said, smiling brightly. "Eat this, and if you'd like anything else, just let us know!"

Legolas smiled. "That is very kind of you. Tell your girls that I said so."

"I will!" the cook said, smiling back before leaving.

Faramir smirked, looking at Aragorn and gesturing his thumb after the woman.

"Aye," said the King. "I noticed."

They suddenly heard an eruption of young giggles from the corridor, and Faramir and Aragorn looked at Legolas, grinning widely.

Legolas had been hungrily staring at the food and hadn't paid attention to the exchange. "What?" he asked.

TBC  
One chapter left! ;)


	6. Yummy Pastries in my Tummy!

Hey everyone! I almost forgot to post this today, LOL! Happy New Year! DON'T DRIVE IF YOU DRINK TOO MUCH! PLEASE! Our lives and the lives of innocent others are worth more than drinking something stinky that will end up in the toilet anyway! Right? (Boy that was blunt.)LOL ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later, Aragorn finally let Legolas out of bed. Whatever internal damage the poison had caused was being healed by his elven healing ability, and most of the time his abdomen was merely tender and a little sore. It pained him more if he walked fast, if he made any sudden moves, or if he climbed stairs.

At the moment, he and Aragorn were slowly walking through the gardens. Legolas had improved so much since those horrible first two days, but the elf was still too pale for Aragorn's liking. The human sought out a bench and sat down, which forced Legolas also to sit. To anyone else, he would've appeared normal in the action, but the King could see that he did it stiffly.

"Have you lost your taste for strawberry pastries?" Aragorn suddenly asked.

Legolas shook his head. "No. To give in to something like that would be a weakness, implying that I fear the result of eating them. There is now nothing to fear, for our enemy no longer lives." He suddenly smiled. "Besides, if your kitchen staff continues to make them the way they have been this week, I would not be _able_ to give them up."

Aragorn's eyebrows rose. "You have already had some?"

Legolas nodded. "Your cooks have apparently been working day and night to improve the recipe, and they constantly bring them to me to ask my opinion. I cannot understand why a pastry's perfection is suddenly so important to them."

Aragorn couldn't hide his smile. "I would think the reason obvious, my friend."

A sudden giggle sounded somewhere behind them, before it was abruptly cut off by a 'shh!'

Aragorn looked behind himself, but didn't see the hiding females. He looked at his friend, his smile widening.

Legolas smiled back and shook his head, looking up at the sky. "Obvious, indeed."

THE END

HAHAHA too funny! Legolas has some secret admirers! ;)

Allrighty then, here's a preview for my next story! It's called, 'Blood of a Brother'! It was supposed to be an entry in the May-June Teitho contest, but forgot to send it in time and missed the deadline! (I still can't believe that I did that!) LOL!

_xxxxxxxx_

_Legolas was barely able to see where he was going. He leaned heavily against the human, his steps very unsteady._

_Gimli ran ahead of his friends, prepared to defend them if he had to. His heart was beating against his ribs at the thought of being attacked with Legolas such an easy target._

_Leaving the mountain, the three friends were relieved to see no orcs, but they were suddenly able to hear them coming._

_The sky was very dark, and to their dismay, it began to rain again._

_Aragorn quickly helped Legolas further up the path, until they were on top of the cave, where they would be hidden from the orc's eyes._

_Evidence of the previous day's lightening strike could be seen from their location; large pieces of rock laid askew, some nearly as big as the dwarf._

_Picking a location far from the mountain's edge, Aragorn gently sat Legolas down, motioning for Gimli to keep watch._

_After throwing an assessing look at Legolas, Gimli obeyed, heading back to the edge._

_Aragorn knelt beside his friend, whose eyes were tightly closed as he bonelessly leaned against the boulder behind him. The elf's breath came fast, from the exertion on his weakened body combined with his increased pain. "Are you all right?" the human asked, putting a hand on his arm._

_Legolas' eyes remained closed. "Fine," he lied. His voice shook._

_Aragorn squeezed his friend's shoulder._

_Gimli suddenly rushed over. "They come!" he exclaimed._

_Aragorn drew his sword, and the two mortals stood in front of their injured friend, prepared to defend him to the death if any orcs dared come their way…_

_xxxxxxxx_

Ha! That's a cool preview, if I do say so myself! ;) At least I didn't leave a cliffhanger this time! What? I did? Oh. Opps! ;) Don't forget to tell me what you think of the ending of 'Betrayed'! ;)


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